Save me a Spark
by Dani Styles 09
Summary: This is a story that speaks of love and loss, of brotherhood and betrayal, of courage and sacrifice, and of the death of dreams. It is a story about the diffuse border that separates the best of our being, the worst. Where Light and Darkness fight between them, and where the sole purpose is to save that little spark.
1. Ch 1: Mahranee (part 1)

_**Chapter 1: Mahranee, part I**_

The alarms echoed in every corridor and the sound they made was exasperating. In each corner you could see a reddish light blinking in warning. The footsteps of the soldiers bounced down the corridors, the voices behind the hooves sounded like distant echoes; they all gave orders, mobilized civilians and ensured that the surroundings were safe.

Mahranee was a planet that had all the necessary resources to supply the rest of the galaxy. Their participation during the war had been neutral, but recently the government of the planet had to choose sides; Mahranee had decided to remain loyal to the Republic as he always had been. But that resulted in an imminent invasion by the Separatists.

"General" Commander Clone stood next to Lyra, making a respectful gesture, "the main streets have been sealed, and the civilians are under guard."

Lyra could not take her eyes off the screen; the enemy ships continued to cross the atmosphere of the planet and for that height of the day, there were dozens of droids advancing.

"We must find a way to get the Chancellor out of here," she murmured wearily as she looked up; they had spent the last twenty-four hours in vigil.

"His unexpected visit has been a stupid decision," the Jedi Master, Chubor said, clucking his tongue. "He must have stayed in the Capital, at most providing support to the people through a hologram."

"The present moral support is worth more than a projection, Master" replied the young Jedi, observing how a native platoon was mobilized along with a small group of Clones on the main street; they were deploying to cover every corner and prevent the entry of the enemy. "But I must agree, it has been really silly to come here."

"How long will it take for the Council to send reinforcements?" Chubor asked.

"I'm afraid our signals have been blocked; no call for help can leave the planet, General" a Clone replied.

"Commander, get your men and open a communication gap. If is successful, establish a connection with the Council and repeat the message for help. "Lyra asked, undoing the brooch of her tunic; the garment slid down her shoulders and fell to the floor with a heavy hiss.

The small General paced in front of the controls of the ship with both hands on his back and a slight frown. Lyra sat in the pilot's seat, and sighed softly. The planet had all the necessary resources to supply the galaxy, but it did not have the necessary army to defend the capital city; the habitants were miners, farmers, not warriors. And the Jedi emissaries had not come prepared enough to face the situation; there were only two squads of Clone soldiers, but they did not reach thirty individuals. And even if the government had disposed of its civilians, the number of combatants remained inferior to the enemy.

"I need some air," Lyra announced, standing up. The Clone Commander made a new respectful gesture and stepped aside, allowing her to leave the bridge.

Lyra left the ship, her arms around her body; her boots rang against the exit platform, producing a solitary bombast in the main square. Outside, the day seemed to be coming to an end, with the sky dying orange and through the clouds some glimpse of the moons.

The young Buleeana sat on a bench and raised her legs to the seat, and immediately regretted having left her cloak. In the uninhabited place a cold wind began to blow, which seemed to be taken from the very planet of Hoth. Lyra hugged herself, tightening her arms around her body and hiding her mouth inside the collar of her uniform.

"Danger makes the most picturesque places turn into grim scenarios." Lyra looked up, meeting Chancellor Palpatine beside her.

"My lord," she announced, standing up; she observed that the Chancellor's personal guard was nowhere to be seen, "you should not go out without an escort."

Palpatine raised a hand, with a subtle smile.

"Do not blame them; I have slipped away" The Chancellor sat at one end of the bench," The purpose of my visit was to give support to the people of this planet, but I have not been able to tolerate the suffering. There is too much desolation and sadness in there. "

"As long as they resist the bombings ..." Lyra sat down again, but keeping her distance.

"They see in the Jedi the spark of hope, my child" the Chancellor objected, "the fact of watching you fight is what motivates them not to give up." The young General allowed her shoulders to relax, "I was surprised not to see to Master Mace Windu here."

"We have all believed that it would be a simple situation to handle; a few droids, nothing more." She replied, watching a new group of clone troopers running through the main square, toward one of the watchtowers.

"Maybe not everything is as dark as you think, little one." Palpatine stretched out his arm and gently pressed her shoulder; Lyra watched that gesture with some curiosity and then, out of politeness, she smiled at him sideways.

"I'm positive about the result," she said. "I am certain that we will save this planet."

From inside the ship, Master Chubor ran down the ramp; his short legs and blue small body were not apt to move at great speeds, but he did his best.

"General Buleeana!" He exclaimed in agitation, "We have received direct communication-"

"From the Council?" Lyra stood up, almost completely forgetting that the Chancellor's hand rested on her shoulder.

"No!" Chubor burst out between gasps, "its Dooku."

The young Buleeana turned to the Chancellor and after biting her lip, she ran out into the ship. The ramp was crossed with a jump, falling in a silent, almost in a graceful way. Lyra watched the transmitter strapped around her wrist and saw the repetitive red light flickering again, announcing that the hologram she had recorded hours ago was still stuck there; The Separatists must have opened a single channel of communication, which was entirely controlled by them, probably intervening in every transmission that could be broadcast from the planet.

"Commander Boggs" she announced upon arriving at the bridge. The clone trooper turned away from the screen and Count Dooku's bluish face was the first thing Lyra saw.

"When they said there was a Jedi in charge, I thought it would be one of my old acquaintances," announced the velvety voice of Lord Sith.

"Yes, I am here because the Council thought it was convenient, Count." Lyra replied with a slight frown; moments after her arrival at the command post, she heard the steps of Master Chubor and the Chancellor.

"I see, I see," said Dooku, while his holographic hand caressed his beard, "but it has been a rather unfashionable decision. We have been able to perform a thermal scan, and I regret to inform you, girl, that there are few soldiers to defend this city. What will two Jedi and a handful of clones do against our weapons? "

Lyra shook her head slightly forward and with the Force recovered her cloak, and then neatly arranged it on the back of the pilot's seat.

"It is never wise to mock ahead of time, sir," she professed, without the least note of concern in his voice, "we had a recent meeting, but I still think it would be premature to think that you had won when this is not over yet."

Dooku laughed.

"Your courage makes me laugh, and I almost feel some compassion for it" he commented, "And tell me, girl, how will you do to stop my ships and my heavy artillery without the endorsement of the Capital and above, having to take care of the Chancellor?" Lyra looked over her shoulder as she heard new steps entering the ship; it was Palpatine's personal escort.

"It is a very heavy task for someone _like you_ ," Dooku continued, "but I have a proposal to offer you." His face looked peaceful, as if the victory was already his "we will invade the city, we will take everything we can without hurting to any civilian; I promise not to hurt anyone as long as there is participation and no one can think of becoming a hero- "

"We will not be your prisoners, Dooku" Chubor intervened, waving his short arm "nor for the offer of amnesty will we abandon our principles."

Suddenly, the image of the Count not only projected his face, but his entire figure. The Jedi Masters stepped aside, while Palpatine's guards took a defensive stance, as if fearing that the hologram might attack.

"You should reconsider it," said the Lord Sith, "my good friend, General Grievous will not be as generous as me when he arrives in the capital, you have seen him in the fields and you know what he is capable of doing; and here among us, he has a strange fascination for collecting lightsabers. And now, two more swords would be part of his collection-"

"Is that all you have to say, Count?" Lyra asked, noting the tall figure in front of her. Dooku's bright face turned towards her.

"It's really a pity that you do not accept my proposal" the figure shrugged, "I suppose the blood shed will remain on your consciences as soon as the first civilians fall. But I will not be spiteful, you can access my invitation even during the attack; I will stop everything immediately as soon as the first surrenders. "

"These people have hope in the Republic" announced Palpatine, breaking the wall of escorts.

"But everyone here has families, Chancellor," Dooku replied, "and if the Republic cannot save them, they will have to resort to other methods ... you do crazy things when you're _desperate_ ," The Count smiled. "And that is where you will understand that all of you did wrong to believe that you can always save the day."

The transmission was cut, dissolving the figure of Dooku. The command post was completely silent and even seemed to darken; outside, it was dark, and the streetlights were automatically lit.

"What are we going to do?" Asked Chubor, climbing toward one of the seats; even if he was an experienced Master, Lyra noticed a faint trace of fear in his words. But she could not blame him. The situation was complex to analyze; there were too many points to keep in mind. They had been stuck for days on the planet of Mahranee and by that time, the separatist army had consumed almost the entire population in a violent slaughter. On the other hand, was the Chancellor; Palpatine had chosen the worst moment to mix with the victims, being trapped on the planet in the same way.

"We must establish communication with the Capital, we must send a new message of help," Lyra reiterated, putting the cloak back on her shoulders; during the last few days a war had been unleashed outside the planet's atmosphere, but no ship in the Republic had managed to land with more troops.

"Lyra," Chubor called, holding her by the cloak. "We cannot keep waiting for them to answer us. We must do something now. "Lyra looked at the enormous eyes of the Master Aleenita, in them she could still see the sparks of hope, but that slowly it became dyed with despair; for four days they were resisting inside the capital, while in the sky a battle broke out between ships, it being common that with each awakening they saw starry ships.

"We have a fleet large enough to accommodate everyone;" Commander Boggs announced, "Running away from this planet would not make us look like cowards."

Leaving the planet had been one of her ideas from the beginning, but she had not had the courage to carry it out; she thought that if they fought in the outskirts, they would manage to save civilians... what they had not counted on was the decisive order that General Grievous had given: exterminate everything that crossed their path. The population had been reduced in a matter of hours.

"I will think in something, but now—juts give me a moment" she requested as she left the command post.

She slipped through the corridors of the ship and locked herself in her chamber. After locking the door from inside, she leaned against the wall with both hands around her head. She was overwhelmed, tired, and hungry. Once again, she looked at the transmitter but the answer was as daunting as an hour ago. She slipped to the floor, legs crossed and hands on her knees. She looked for a deep breath and sighed. Something inside her screamed that she must have been more cautious before leaving.

Being outside the ship, she could feel the presence of the other Jedi, fighting to liberate the planet. She had felt the presence of Kit Fisto and Obi-Wan, including Mace Windu; she had tried so hard to contact one of them through the Force, but they all seemed too busy to heed the call. But it was on the third day, when someone sent a signal that resonated like a bell on her head. At first it had been a simple projection; she was no longer in Mahranee, but she could see the galaxy without even taking off her feet from the ground. Then the connection with the Force increased its power, until Anakin reflected in front of her as clearly as if he were at her side. The young Skywalker had reassured her, assuring her that the Republic was doing the best it could to synthesize the attack on the planet, but that they needed time. Lyra had promised that they would resist as best they could. Anakin had given his word that they would soon come to their aid. But the connection between the two of them was cut off on the fourth day, when Anakin stopped passing his report.

She looked for the necklace that he had given her; again she had sewn it to her uniform so that it was close to her heart. She pressed the pendant between her fingers and felt a slight electric current creeping up her wrist.

She understood that things abroad could be as complicated as they were down there, so she quickly realized that they could not depend entirely on them either. She got back to her feet, quick as lightning and unlocked the doors of her chambers. She crossed the corridors with her cloak fluttering behind her and her boots booming loudly with each step she took.

"General," announced a Clone trooper when he saw her; Lyra told him to follow her and when they emerged from the ship, she found the rulers of the planet talking in whispers with Palpatine and Chubor; they seemed to be in an agitated exchange of ideas.

"Gentlemen" she spoke, seeing how the inhabitants of the planet emerged from their hiding places, attracted by the voices and almost afraid to look out on the streets. The governor of Mahranee had turned red while demanding answers, "Gentlemen!" Lyra shouted, tapping her boot cue against the cobbled street in order to get attention.

"What are we going to do?!" the governor questioned, almost on the verge of collapse, "We cannot remain entrenched in our homes, waiting for something to happen!"

"I understand your discomfort, sir," Lyra announced, taking one hand to her chest, "we appreciate your patience, but I fear the enemy troops outnumber us." The inhabitants began to approach, some whispering with the one they had at side; several women carried small children and did their best to reassure them.

"If you want to give us courage, girl, you're doing it wrong," said the governor, passing a handkerchief over his face; he perspired from nerves.

"You have let us stay because you have hope for the Republic, right? Otherwise, you would have thrown us before the first loss, "at the mention of the first attacks made by the battle droids, the murmur in the people began to grow, reaching tones of concern.

Lyra called everyone to join, forming a circle on the main street. The clones helped those who were injured and restrained those who could stand. Lyra watched each of the inhabitants and for a moment her heart contracted, but then she returned to a deadpan determination.

"The enemy has been pushing us since the first day, but all have shown unparalleled courage," she announced. "And even if it does not seem so, and many believe that all Jedi, clones and separatists only see war, we here present, understand the sacrifice that many of you had to do; I cannot guarantee immediate peace, but I can assure you a place where you can start over."

"What are you talking about, girl?" the governor asked, fanning himself with his handkerchief.

"The planet is lost," Master Chubor intervened, anticipating Lyra. "According to our scouts, there are battle droids in all directions." The small Aleenita observed the young Buleeana and Lyra felt that for a moment that he explored her thoughts. "We must immediately make a transfer."

The decision spread like fire among those present. There were complaints and protests. Others, perhaps the most frightened, were in favor. Again, the crying of some children and the comforting words of their mothers were heard.

"Runaway is better than being slaves!" Someone yelled, raising an arm in the air; a chorus of voices supported it and almost instantly, what remained of the population was completely agreed to leave.

"Chancellor, do you think you can give them temporary accommodation in the Capital?" Master Chubor asked, slapping Lyra's leg with evident pride.

Palpatine was stunned and Lyra could not decipher why; the hope was blooming in every face there present. They were taking the easy path, but the safest way, some judge people may say that they were acting like selfish and cowards, but they choose what the best was.

The Chancellor remains in silent when the people got back to their homes, with the order to take only the essential, and Master Chubor had to repeat the question again. Palpatine nodded almost carelessly, but it was a sufficient response.

"Remember, only pack what is necessary," Lyra repeated, helping a woman with her children as the crowd was almost disperse, "we will soon begin with the evacuation."

 **SW-SW-SW**

 **Hey, everyone!**

 **I know it's been a long time, I apologies for it. But now I am in my holy summer break, so I will have more time to update!**

 **I hope everyone is having a great week, and see you soon in a new post!**

 **Greetings!**

 **PS: sorry for the grammar mistakes!**


	2. Ch 2: Mahranee (part 2)

_**Chapter 2:**_

 _ **Mahranee, part II**_

 _Hello!_

 _Wow, how many followers the story has! Thanks for the support, it means a lot to me!_

 _Like I always say, sorry for the grammar mistakes!_

 **SW-SW-SW-SW**

The skies of Coruscant were closer and closer, in the midst of the darkness lightning flashes of war shone among the shadowy clouds. From the cabin of the ship she could see the artificial lights of the city, pointing to the hundreds of ships that crossed the lanes. Everything seemed peaceful, but meters above, danger lurked.

"General, we lose power in the main engines!" Exclaimed a clone trooper, doing everything possible to stabilize the ship.

"It's time to activate the secondary engines," Lyra said, observing the barely chipped window glass; It would be dangerous if the crack expanded. "The civilians?"

"In the vaults," announced General Chubor, "But I'm afraid we'll soon have to move them or we'll end up losing them."

"It's better to take them to the escape pods. We have managed to contact the Council; they will be sending back up ships, they will be able to intercept the capsules before the enemy. "

The ship shook violently and the emergency lights came on, as did the alarms; the shrieking sound played in every corner, listening like laments.

"General, we have lost contact with the starfighters," announced a second clone. Outside, the dark sky was punctuated by traces of fire; the fiery tongues split with the flames of the ion engines that crossed it and were punctuated by stellar explosions and rows of remains that rained down into the atmosphere and became tangled cloud loops.

"We're losing height," Lyra murmured, looking worriedly at the crack in the glass; the more they descended the pressure would increase and the glass would not support it. "Captain," a Clone trooper stood by her side, raising his hand formally, " evacuate immediately the capsules. Put all the refugees in them; select two of your best men and get the Chancellor inside as well. Let's drop the capsules into space. "

"Let's have faith that a cruiser of the Republic is on the march." General Chubor wished with a dismissive gesture.

Lyra left the bridge, she could not get the crack out of her head; how dangerous it would be if it got bigger...

She walked quickly through the corridors, bathing in the reddish light of the spotlights on the walls; the alarms sounded louder and louder, made her skin crawl and made her nerves stand on end.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" General Chubor asked, patting her knee softly.

"Everything in order, Master" she replied. "I just—I just was thinking."

"I feel great sorrow in you. You worry too much about this"

Lyra put a hand to her head; under her fingers, she felt that her hair was dirty and some parts of her clothes were already beginning to smell bad, how many days had they been blocked?

"There are no other thoughts in my head," she mumbled, being honest with the little Master.

She missed her room in the Temple, missed the warm water and missed Anakin. For days she had tried to put off her thoughts about him, to concentrate fully on the mission, but recently she had been feeling a deep emptiness in her chest, as if something was pressing her lungs. But anyway she managed to suppress it.

"We are flying over the capital, soon we will be back." Again the master patted her knee. "Try to think that; soon we will be back and all these people will be safe, because we—you, saved them." Lyra smiled at him. "Now, change that face. I have news; the soldiers have found a girl wandering in the halls. "

"A girl?" Sherepeated, raising an eyebrow. "How could she get out?"

"We are in a critical situation, there are not many clones available to take care of the cellars, not to mention that we have lost five men outhere."

Lyra put a hand to her chin, sliding her fingers down the length of her throat; she felt a shudder as her nails brushed the scar of the Anuba. Months had passed since the Battle of Geonosis, but the memory of that animal's jaws resonated real day after day.

"Where is she?" She asked, hovering her own hand around her throat. The scar had begun to throb.

"We've taken her to the pantry. She was armed, we seized a knife. " Chubor handed it over to her.

The young Buleeana nodded as she took the knife.

"All right. I'll go see her immediately." General Chubor patted her knee one last time.

"Oh, one last thing, the capsules are ready. It's only a matter of time until we get the moment to throw them." Lyra nodded again.

"I will return to the bridge in a moment."

Lyra turned on her heels, the alarms had finally been silenced but the lights continued to cover everything with a red glow; for a moment it reminded her of that dream inside the cave. The scar throbbed harder.

The pantry was a small room, adorned with metal shelves on both sides of the walls; There was a small window at the end where it was possible to see part of the atmosphere. In the center was a small table with two white chairs. In one of the chairs was a small girl.

"Soldair," Lyra spoke, "Wait outside."

"General." The Clone stood up and proceeded to leave the pantry.

Lyra went to one of the shelves, taking one of the cans. She unscrewed the lid and placed it in the center of the table.

"A sweet?" she asked, taking one out and bringing it to her mouth with the peak of the knife; she appreciated that the pantry was always well stocked. Whoever was in charge had put dried pieces of the sweet fruit of Naboo there.

The girl denied.

"They told me you ran away from the cellars," Lyra continued, sitting in the opposite chair. "What is your name?"

"Ashu-Nyamal, daughter of Ashu." She answered firmly, evading having to look at her.

"Hi, Nyamal. My name is Lyra." But the girl was not even remotely interested. "It has not been smart to run around the ship with a knife in your hand, you could have hurt yourself or hurt someone else."

Nyamal turned to her eyes, burning with rage.

"The only ones who would have hurt would be the enemies that destroyed my planet." She expressed bitterly.

"I'm afraid you would not have done much with only a knife." Lyra retorted, taking a second sweet. "Our enemies are not made of flesh and blood; they are metal and circuits. You would have needed something more. "

"But at least I would have tried."

Her smugness and bravery reminded her of Anakin; it was that stubbornness that sometimes drove her crazy, to the point of pushing her to the limit, while at other times it only managed to get her smiles.

"Basing your intentions on impulses will not guarantee anything." Sometimes she could not help it and Mace Windu's words came out of her mouth, maybe because those words used to be repeated hundreds of times.

"Can I go now?" Nyamal asked with boredom, as she tapped her fingers against the table.

"You will go back to the cellars" Lyra leaned back on the chair seat. The girl proceeded to get up, opening her mouth but Lyra stopped her without letting her say a single word. "No, you will not get your knife back. I can not afford someone to get hurt; the things outside— " she silenced and shook her hand," Forget it. Soldair! " she called and moments later a Clone trooper entered the pantry.

"General."

"Take her back and make sure nobody else comes out."

"That will be it, General."

Nyamal rolled her eyes while the Clone waited for her.

"Remember what I told you; think clearly and then act." Nyamal looked at her out of the corner of her eye and then proceeded to retreat, in the company of the soldier.

Lyra put her hand back inside the can, taking out one last sweet. But before taking it to the her mouth, the ship shook with more violence than before. The table trembled and the can rushed to the edge, trying to fall but Lyra's reflexes prevented it.

Something was beginning to smell burning. Lyra covered the can again, leaving it on the shelf and rushed towards the exit. Hanging from her belt, the lightsaber slapped against her hip; that made her feel secure.

She clung to the walls while the alarms began to shout again, now higher and higher, like the pitiful lament. She felt a shudder running down her back as she felt the echo of the Clones' boots running around her. The enemy fleet must have fired the ship, damaging something vital; everyone shouted orders, ran from one side to the other, panic could be perceived. Lyra also felt the fear from the other side of the ship, the civilians were nervous, the children were crying and their mother were trying to calm them down.

"Commander!" Lyra shouted, taking her wrist to her mouth so she could speak from her comlink. "Prepare the capsules!" An explosion was heard. Lyra clung to a handlebar as soon as the floor trembled beneath her feet, smelled burnt again. Something must be on fire.

Between tremors and tremors, Lyra managed to reach the bridge. General Chubor gave orders while trying to contact again to the Council.

"Why is the Chancellor not in one of the capsules?" The little Master questioned, his eyes bulging and his voice high, almost like a squeak.

Lyra looked back at the window; the glass was beginning to crack. It was a matter of time until the pressure made it explode.

"We managed to get a direct communication from Count Dooku," said a clone trooper.

"Make it through" Lyra ordered, unable to stop seeing the glass. Outside, the enemy ships fired, destroying everything they could. Their shield had fallen and it was only a matter of time... "And connect it with the Council." The soldier keyed a few buttons and the communication was linked to the Temple. At first there was interference, so it was obvious that the transmitters of the ship could be damage, but after a few moments the velvety voice of Dooku was clearly heard.

" _It's amazing to know that all of you are still resisting_ ," he said softly. The screens were also damage but a hologram of the Sith Lord managed to be projected for those on the bridge as well as for those watching from the Jedi Temple. " _But anyway I'm surprised by the fact that you contacted me; as I understood, you preferred to ignore me, give me the treatment of silence. In other words, be stubborn_. "

General Chubor, sitting next to the pilot clone, with his short feet that could not touch the ground, clicked his tongue, "You have your victory, Dooku," he said with a sharp, nasal tone of voice, charged with pain; Lyra thought it wasn´t the same Master who had tried to cheer her up moments ago, "The planet is yours. Let us save these people; We have entire families in here, and many are injured. They are innocent! "

Dooku let out a harsh laugh, as if that clemency request was really unnecessary.

"My dear General. You should know that in war there is no such thing as _innocence_ ; you should reconsider it more often, it would set a good example for the young people. "

"Count," Lyra spoke, positioning herself in front of the hologram; the flickering blue figure turned towards her, with uninterrupted calm. "There are children here, children who have not the faintest idea why this war came about. They are **children** " she repeated, emphasizing each word. "We are flying over the atmosphere of the capital, let us let them go. We'll fix what we have to fix between us—"

" _Children_." Dooku repeated, stroking his long white beard. "Children who have been sentenced by the foolish decisions of their parents to ally with the Republic!" His voice came out like a purr. His eyes remained on Lyra, probably reminding her of his hundreds of proposals

"Do not think me so naive, I know that this conversation is being heard by the Council; that is why I will give you one last clarification, "the purr disappeared, being replaced by a hard, cold and demanding voice," As long as the Republic continues to resist against me, the _'innocents'_ will continue to die. And every death in this war will fall firmly on the shoulders of the Jedi—"

The ship gave a new shake; in the distance the alarms screamed in a discontinuous tone. Lyra looked at the crack, it expanded slowly. Outside, a fleet of the Republic was trying to get through between the vulture droids and the Nantex-class.

"And now, it is time for all of you to join the rank of the fallen."

The walls shook as soon as a separatist shot hit the upper turrets. All the members present at the bridge clung to what was closest to them to avoid falling. A piece of turret fell in front of the window, disintegrating as it fell into the void of space. The glass was already a thin layer that separated the outside of the interior; with panic, both Jedi saw how the irregular chunks began to peel off as the pressure change seeped through.

"Free the capsules!" Lyra shouted back to hold the Chancellor by the arm. "It's time to release them! Go, go, go!"

"Everyone get out of the bridge!" General Chubor cried, jumping from the chair with his saber in hand, "Leave the bridge!" The few clones that were inside fled through the doors. When the last person was outside, the Jedi Master sealed the door.

Lyra ran down the corridor, dragging the Chancellor with her; the man was fastened to her wrist, in an attempt to run with his own feet.

"Master Windu!" Exclaimed Lyra, speaking from her transmitter; the communication networks were finally open, but she was afraid that she would not be able to get that message across.

" _I receive you_ ," announced Obi-Wan's voice, " _Lyra, what's happening now_?"

The ship tilted sideways, Lyra and the Chancellor fell against the nearest wall; they must have destroyed a large part of the infrastructure, since the ship began to lose its central axis.

"They are attacking with everything they have!" Reported the young Buleeana, now holding Palaptine by the wrist as well. "We have no means of responding to the fire and we do not have enough clones either." She looked over her shoulder, no one was following them. Not even General Chubor, they were alone in the middle of the catastrophe. "We have launched the capsules, the civilians go inside. It is all we can do."

 _'Everything we can do'_ that sounded like a clear defeat. Dooku had won this time, but at what cost? Soon the Republic would run out of Chancellor and the Council would lose two Jedi, what else could it sound like?

"Masters Shak-Ti and Secura are in the fleet; they will arrive soon. The first priority is to keep the Chancellor safe. "

Lyra looked at him and felt angry, why had he decided to give that speech? Why had he brought such a small escort? why?

"They won't make it" Lyra bit her tongue as they turned at a corner, "They are too many. They will not make it. "

Something crashed into the ship, causing it to sink more and more. Soon they would be falling into a tailspin and if the Separatists did not kill them, the fall would surely.

"Master Kenobi—" the nearest door burst. The Chancellor fell and in the process dragged Lyra; the transmitter flew out of her hands, getting lost in the rubble of the ship.

From the opening, two K-droids rolled, activating their shields and preparing their weapons. Lyra stood up, taking her saber and activating it. The K-droids were not easy to annihilate, but she would do her best.

"Stay here," she told the Chancellor, while under the twinkling lights, the brightness of her saber shone; the darkness of that corridor was interrupted by a small spark.

The droids advanced in formation as fragments of the ship fell in their wake. Lyra started walking towards them as well, but increasing speed as she approached. She let out a strangled scream and, pushing herself with the Force, fell between the two droids. The shields covered them completely, so there was no way to attack them externally. But the Battle of Geonosis had given her enough experience to disprove that fact.

The heads of the droids rotated on their axes, pointing their weapons towards her; she remained in the same position for a few seconds. It was crazy! But it would work ... or at least she expected it. The weapons began to emit a buzzing sound and the first beam came out of the droid on her right; Lyra rolled on the floor as soon as the second droid started firing as well. That was similar to a game. She jumped over each droid, weakening the shields with each shot. Soon they would be exposed.

The droid on her right was the first to go without a shield, and Lyra cut it off in the middle with her saber. The second rotated in her direction, still firing but she used her saber to redirect the rays against the sphere that protected it. Lyra again implemented the use of jumps to distract it and gain ground.

Through the same opening in the door, battle droids entered. They were two rows with five droids each. Lyra stood in front of the K-droid as it fired, and using the Force again, she managed to stop the beam in the air, just inches from her face.

"Stop there!" Exclaimed one of the battle droids.

Lyra smiled sideways and using her free hand, she levitated the K-droid into the droid formation, then threw the suspended beam, exploding the destroyer. They all fell like a pile of old junk.

"Chancellor!" she called, holding her saber, "Chancellor, come on. We must go. " she returned to the man, finding him crouched in a corner, almost like a child crying. "Cheer up. Soon you will be at home. "

But when turning on her heels, an invisible hand grabbed her by the neck. Lyra tried to breathe, but could not. Dooku watched her as he strangled her. She shook her feet but it no longer touched the ground. In her hand she still had her saber on, so she was shaking it with the foolish intention of hurting him, but Dooku only smiled.

"You won't need this anymore," he said, snatching her saber with the Force. "General, take charge of it." The sickly droid took the saber, observing it meticulously.

Lyra thought that it was the second saber she was losing and that her Master would definitely not happy with it... if he ever found out.

"Chancellor, would you be so kind?" Grievous grabbed him by the arm, dragging him down the path of destroyed droids. Lyra believed that the Chancellor, to be such a politically powerful man, was too docile when it was pressed.

"And as for you, silly girl, I should kill you" Dooku squeezed his invisible hand and Lyra felt her brain begin to run out of oxygen. "But I will have compassion; A Jedi has already died and one is enough for today. " her eyes filled with tears, "You will come with me. Maybe that's the only way you'll realize that I'm not the enemy. "

 **SW-SW-SW-SW**

Everyone waited. Nobody spoke, everyone was just waiting.

Anakin was the most nervous, standing behind Obi-Wan's seat, shaking his leg uneasily. Communications with the fleet, The Dawn, had been interrupted abruptly and for a few minutes no one had tried to reconnect.

"It's Master Shak-Ti," Obi-Wan announced, as soon as a hologram began to flicker in the center of the room.

"Masters," announced the Togruta Jedi, bowing curtly, "The Dawn has been destroyed." Her blue silhouette threatened to disintegrate while the battle scenes were visible over her shoulder; ships exploding, clones running. "There are no survivors."

"And the capsules?" Mace Windu asked with a forced tranquility.

"We have intercepted only two; the rest have been destroyed. "

Silence fell like a heavy blanket on everyone. Nobody seemed willing to break it or maybe nobody knew how to do it. Anakin saw a silent despair on the faces of everyone present; the Republic had lost its leader.

 _'And I lost something more valuable'_

He bit his tongue, looking away from the Master's silhouette.

"Mm-hm," murmured little Master Yoda, "We are grieved, we have seen much suffering," he said, "Courage, the young Master had, in the end. Forgotten, she and Chubor will not be. "

"The courage of all that crew saved an entire planet from extinction," Obi-Wan said, "Now they are one with the Force." Anakin felt a hollowness in his chest and refrained from looking up; she could not have left, she could not have left him. "I hope this tragedy would be the last one this war demands."

"So we all wish, Master Kenobi," Mace Windu interjected, "But I am afraid that this desire is far from being realized."

"No other ship made it?" Anakin encouraged himself to ask.

"No ship in that fleet make it out." Shak-Ti replied. "But, the space is wide, we still hope to find some lost."

"Hope was what got them to Mahranee in the first place," he mumbled through clenched teeth.

"This is not the first major casualty we have, young Skywalker," Mace Windu replied, "We should not turn the fallen into a martyr, when there were more of our brothers and sisters who died in battle. Hope was what motivated them to put themselves at the head of an army. Hope is what keeps people alive. "

"It's been almost three years since this war broke out," said Plo-Koon, his voice deafened by the mask he used to breathe in that atmosphere, "We can barely count our casualties, but this—" he shook his head.

"Everything is the product of a man and his ambitions" Windu reproached.

"It's true that Dooku is the leader of the Separatists," Obi-Wan interjected, "and none will disagree that Dooku is ambitious and evil. But he has not done it alone. I agree that we should hold him responsible for every death caused in this war, but he has not committed it alone. He is just the executioner. "

"Of course not." Plo-Koon nodded, "And it's interesting that you use almost the same words as Dooku. He has placed the blame directly on us. "

"A lie, that's it." Yoda said, shaking his little green hand, "Foolish it would be, for us to give it credence at the moment."

"Would it be, truly, Master?" Windu asked with a hard look in his eyes. He was probably one of the few people capable of contradicting or questioning Yoda from everyone there.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, Master Windu?" Yoda asked.

" Have we, really, explored every available option? Could we have ended this war sooner, or in fact, finished it now? "

The rest of the Council was absolutely silent. Those words had taken more than one by surprise. Anakin swallowed, passing his eyes over each face.

"Speak plainly."

Windu watched his fellows, seemed to be weighing his words.

"Master Kenobi is right—Dooku could not do everything on his own. Billions follow him. But, I also have my observation – war is Dooku's creation. Those who follow him, follow _him_. Each player is controlled by the Count; every conspiracy we have traced back leads us to him. "

Anakin frowned.

"That's nothing new, Master."

But Windu continued, "Without Dooku, the Separatist movement would collapse. There would not be a figure they could follow. No doubt they would seek to place someone up there, but with so many allies, the movement would end up being consumed. You know, cut the head and the body will fall. "

"But that's what we have—oh." Anakin's blue eyes blinked as he understood the words.

"Assassination, mean you?" Obi-Wan shook his head negatively.

"No," said Anakin's Master, "Some things are simply not within the realm of possibilities. Not," his gaze fell on Mace Windu," for Jedi. "

"With the truth, Master Kenobi speaks," Yoda argued, "On the Dark Side, those actions lead."

Windu raised both hands, in a calm gesture. "Nobody here wants to behave like a Sith."

"A few does, at first. A small step, the one that determines destiny often is"

Windu looked from Yoda and then to Kenobi.

"Master Kenobi, answer me this: How often this Council has sat down, shaking our heads, saying _everything leads to Dooku_? A _dozen_ times? About a _hundred_ times?

Obi-Wan did not respond. Behind him, Anakin squeezed the back of the seat, digging his nails into it. He avoided looking at both masters, pressing his lips in a thin white line.

"The final blow must be given," Windu continued, rising from his chair, approaching Obi-Wan. Anakin watched as his ex-Master proceeded to stand up calmly, knowing that Windu surpassed him in stature.

"Dooku will continue to do exactly what he has been doing," Mace continued, "It will not change. And if we do not change, then this war will continue to explode, innocents will die, we will die and our galaxy will fall little by little. We—the Jedi and the Clones, we command—are the _only_ ones who can stop this. "

"He's right," Anakin interjected, feeling an unease deepening inside him; everything that came out of Mace Windu's mouth, he translated it into an attempt to mourn the loss of his last padawan, or at least it was what Anakin believed. "I think it's time to open up to new ideas that we've never had before in mind."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan warned.

"With all due respect, master," continued the young Skywalker, "the fall of Mahranee is terrible. But it is the most recent crime that Dooku has committed against a world and its people. "

"We want to increase those numbers?" Windu added and Anakin thought it was the first time in his life that they could agree on something. "It is the life of a man to save millions. Should we not protect the innocent? We would be failing the Republic and the citizens. We must stop this— _now_."


	3. Ch 3: Big lie, small world

_**Chapter 4:**_

" _ **Big lie, small world"**_

A bubble held her inside. She had tried to escape, but the shackles on her wrists and ankles imprisoned her on the floor; she had shaken, kicked but still remained suspended inside the energy shield.

She had been in that room for a long time, only in the company of two _Magna-Guards_ who guarded the only entrance; the droids seemed as obsolete as the room itself. And with the days of captivity, Lyra had the brilliant idea not to provoke them; Grievous had given orders to attack if necessary. And she would have to be too stupid to test them without her saber.

The room had no windows and seemed to be the furthest place from the ship. She had tried to sharpen her senses, hoping to catch General Chubor's presence, but she had not managed to perceive anything. Although she flatly refused to accept that the Jedi Master had not managed to survive.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors of the room opened; the droids stepped aside, allowing the entry of Count Dooku and General Grievous.

"Lower her," ordered the Sith Lord, looking over his shoulder at the guards. One of the Magna turned off the power generator and Lyra fell to the floor, feeling the counterbalance of the shackles. "I'm afraid it's been a long time since we've received visitors and our manners are a little— _rusty_."

Grievous coughed.

"She should be floating in space, in my opinion," the cyborg commented.

"From someone like you, Count, I do not expect formalities," Lyra murmured, feeling a burst of ephemeral courage.

Dooku stroked his beard with a slight, lopsided smile.

"General, go back to your post. Check the Chancellor's escort; I do not want our guest to get bored. "He asked.

The cyborg put the white cloak on his metallic shoulders and withdrew with a loud rattle. Lyra thought it was amazing to see Grievous following orders. According to her perception, the General had a position almost similar to that of Dooku, but obviously he was still inferior, a pawn.

"The courage that some young people drive is admirable," Dooky murmured, pacing the room. "It reminds me of my youth, I do not deny having been a rebellious young man, but I guess we all go through the same stage until we reach maturity." He stopped in front of her, with both hands on his back, turning his head slightly the side "How old are you? I guess you should not be too old. "

Lyra relaxed, using a concrete arch to stand up.

"Soon I will have 20" he replied.

"Mm-hm" Dooku stroked his beard again, thinking. "You're still a girl, the arrogance will last a while longer."

"Arrogance is in everyone, no matter how old." She fought back. "This war has proved it."

"Do not think I'm being offended by it," Dooku turned on his heel, pacing in the opposite direction. "My arrogance was what propelled my objectives to be heard, do you think that someone would have followed me if I had been subtle, serene?"

"Does that justify what happened in Mahranee? Or all that this war has caused? Is that how you console yourself each night, before you go to sleep? "

"All those losses have been the product of the negligence of those who did not listen to me. My proposal would have saved them, but nobody listened to me. They have a bad concept about me. "

"And what should they think of someone—

"Someone like me? Someone who has known how to open his eyes and realize all the hidden lies? "Dooku stopped, watching her with a deep look. "The truth is a bitter drink for those who want it. No one is able to tolerate it. "

Lyra remained silent. But the Count went down some short steps, meeting her. When he had it in front, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. He bent down, opening the shackles. Lyra felt freedom in her ankles, but the absence made of weight against her hands. It was held from the same arch

"Take this as a symbol of trust and peace." Lyra nodded feeling a little embarrassed. " Now, I remember your father; he arrived to the Temple when he was only five years old. The Council had found him after a diplomatic visit to Naboo, where your grandfather had told a delirious anecdote of his little one playing with his food, making it levitate and scaring the wet nurses. Do you remember Qui-Gon?" Lyra nodd, " Well, he was my Padawan by that time, he was ten years old and he was a brilliant student, rebellious, but brilliant after all. That same day, I put a trial on both of them; they had to meditate, fill themselves completely with the Luminous side and I knew immediately that your father was sensitive to the Force.

Lyra watched him closely, even coming to think that there was a special glow in Dooku's gaze; although she preferred not to anticipate herself giving unconfined conjectures. The man was no longer governed by the Jedi Code, he was free to feel if he wanted to.

"Your grandparents did not understand it at first, but after Yoda explained to them, they agreed that the boy should be trained as a Jedi. At the age of eleven he was taken under the tutelage of Mace Windu and eight years later he met a young woman from an unknown planet, sensitive to the Force as well: _Yara_. "

The young Buleeana looked away. For months she had tried to end that chapter, giving it a lock, but as she tried it more, there was always something going back to it.

"What does all this have to do with war?" she asked. "Because if you try to say my parents—"

"You never asked yourself why there are no Yara records anywhere? I would not dare call her Buleeana, because her real name remains a mystery to this day. "

" _Yara Aladfhar_ ," she murmured. "It's a name from a star, a star from the _Lyra_ constellation. Or at least that's what I remember hearing. "shethought the whole situation was unnecessary, would Dooku have a similar conversation with each prisoner?

Dooku shook his head.

"It's false. Nobody ever had a record of any family with that name in any planet in this galaxy. "

"It's a pity we can not ask her." Lyra leaned the weight of her body against the other end of the arch; her legs ached and the boots were starting to bother her.

"Did you know that she never came to be taken by any Master?" Dooku continued. "No one ever dared to have her as an apprentice and ended up working in the Temple library; Jocasta Nu can affirm it. "The Count paused briefly. "There was something in her that no one could understand; Did you know I had _yellow eyes_? "

Lyra huffed at first, thinking it was a joke, laughing at it. But the Dooku's face did not smile, was simply lacked of any emotion; she did not see him as a man of jokes. And then she began to shake her head.

"No. That's a lie. Liar! " she exclaimed, retreating. "That's a lie, she did not have yellow eyes, the Sith have yellow eyes!"

She remembered seeing her mother's holograms in the Naboo's house; she had seen her in her dreams, Yara had— which color did she have? Blue? Green? She could not be sure anymore. She could not remember.

"She had them!" Dooku replied. "Nobody wanted to let her go for fear that the Dark Side would consume her. They did not train her, but they did not let her go. They only held her, condemned her to live among books and dust. It was to be expected that at the first chance she would flee. "

She continued shaking her head.

"Your father was a brilliant student, but weak with his feelings. He felt sorry for her and became enraged with the Order, challenged her own Master and fled with her. Both became defectors, fled to every planet they could. Your grandparents offered them shelter when she became pregnant. But then they escaped to an inhospitable planet, where no one would ever go looking for them and that's how they ended up on Tatooine. "

"Every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie"

Dooku took a long stride and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Everyone lie, I'm not an exception, Mace Windu is not either; He knows this, we live it together. He trained your father, he fought a duel with his apprentice, he lost the hope of being able to train another Padawan after Lorcan ran away, and everything goes back to the fact that they lied to a young girl, denying her the possibility of reverse the darkness if there was one. They separated her, made her feel inferior, the Jedi themselves filled her heart with resentment! "

Lyra looked away, pursing her lips.

"What do you intend with this?" she asked in a whisper. "Do you want me to believe everything and understand your position?"

"I do not intend you to believe me, I just want you to understand that nobody is loyal with the truth, even those who always swear to be honest end up coloring their words with lies. "He turned his head again to the Magna-Guards," Turn on the generator again. "He ordered as he held the chain of the shackles and raised it on the pedestal. Lyra let herself go, head down, overwhelmed. The droids activated the energy shields and the bubble enclosed it again.

 _ **SW-SW-SW-SW**_

She had fallen asleep shortly after Dooku had left the room. The tiredness had ended by exhausting her; She was hungry and in her dreams she listened to the noise that produced her stomach. But as much as she had tried to sleep, she felt pain in his hands, the shackles stung her wrists. She rotated her head impatiently, resting her forehead against the inside of her arm.

"Oh, Ani," she whispered. She had lost track of time, she hardly remembered when it was the last time she had seen him, she would not know when or if she would see him again.

Leaving aside the pain and closed her eyes again. She would try to call him, she would try to see him in her mind. She would try.

She breathed deeply, trying to put her feet back on the ground but it was impossible. But after a while and, for the first time in days, she felt light as a feather. Her arms felt free just like her legs. She opened her eyes, it was night and a starry sky loomed over her head. In the distance the city of Coruscant stretched, with its thousands of lights and ships plowing through every street. She felt the cool breeze of the night hitting her face; she bit her lip gently as she smiled.

Behind her, a light turned softly. Behind her, a small room was expanding, not very tidy but had a welcoming appearance. A door closed and someone moved in the dim light.

Anakin stripped off his robe, dropping heavily on the bed. Lyra felt her heart beating like it had never throbbed before. She thought maybe it was a product of her tired mind, probably the lack of food was making her see hallucinations ... but the breeze ...she had felt the breeze.

"Anakin?" her voice came out like a thin, weak thread.

Anakin raised his head. For a moment she feared that he would not be able to see her, that perhaps her voice had been a whisper in the wind. Anakin stood up, silent and staring at the entrance to his window. Her heart beat stronger than before. She stretched out her arm to him, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him— but Anakin passed through her, as if it were a smoke screen. He went through it without even realizing that she was there, right in front of him.

 _ **SW-SW-SW-SW**_

Anakin went out onto the balcony.

The city looked magnificent. It was a dark and quiet night, as he used to like it. He enjoyed the breeze and the soft cooing of the ships transiting the highways. It was a beautiful image.

He scrubbed his face with both hands, resting his elbows on the edge of the balcony. Lately he found it very difficult to sleep more than two hours in a row; He was constantly being chased by new nightmares and the last days had been attacking him more frequently than ever.

He could not stop dreaming about Lyra. After Master Shak-Ti's statement, he had refused to believe that she was no longer there. Something inside him cried out that it was impossible, he claim that it was still hope. But that small spark was diminishing as the Council affirmed the loss of both Jedi.

« _I'll save that spark_ —he used to say every time he left some meeting— _I'll save that spark_ »

But every hour that passed it became more complicated to keep it on. Exactly that night was the fifteenth day since the fleet, _the Dawn_ , had been destroyed.

In his dreams, Lyra was still alive and at his side. But she was not a Jedi, no. She had followed in her grandfather's footsteps, becoming one of the representatives of Naboo. Every night, from the day they parted in the hangar—with that sweet and clandestine kiss—he saw her wearing a white dress, ornamented with diamonds that shone in the light, giving her an almost magical glow. Anakin believed that that aura was her protecting him, trying to make his nightmares not so abrupt. In his dreams, when he was completely lost in an alternate world, Lyra used to whisper in his ear that everything would be fine.

Anakin closed his eyes and sighed.

"Damn, Ly" he rubbed his eyes again.

A sudden blizzard rose and Anakin felt a chill running down his back.

He raised his head, looking up at the sky, looking for some star. His mother used to tell him that those we loved never really left, a part of them remained in the galaxy and it was enough to know how to search to find them.

He smiled. He had seen a bright star that flickered frequently. He was aware that the pattern of the stars was not always the same, but he was sure that from that portion of the sky above his balcony there was always a piece of cloudless black velvet.

And that saddened him.

He returned to the interior of his room and flopped heavily on the bed. With his hands he ruffled his hair, sighing with heaviness. He should stop thinking or he would end up with another sleepless night.

He rotated on the mattress, turning his back to the window.

His room was chaotic, there were robes on the floor and the tools he used to adjust to R2 were scattered everywhere, it would be a miracle if he managed to dodge them in the dark. In the corner, there were two astro-mech; both were very close to the small closet. R2 was already suspended, but Anakin hoped he was alert; R5, on the other hand, was still programmed, as it had been for almost a month.

"You miss her, buddy?" He asked and the droid gave a choppy beep, which Anakin identified with a halfhearted tone. "Yeah. I miss her too."

He tucked the pillow under his head and yawned. He was already beginning to be sleepy and he wished he could sleep without problems.

With a blanket around him, Anakin closed his eyes.

But it did not take more than a few moments when the door of his room opened.

The light from the corridor blinded him completely. Anakin raised a hand, trying to cover his face as he did his best to see. There was a figure under the threshold; It was small.

"Get up, Master Skywalker!" The figure moved and the light hit him squarely in the face. "Up, up now!" Gael entered like a storm and approached the bed grabbed by the arm, pulling light into his face again.

"Gael?" Anakin said, stopping her. "Do you know what time it is? I'm tired and it's too late. "

His eyes got used to the change of lighting and now he could see the young Padawan with better clarity. Gael was young, she probably would have turned 13 or would turn very soon, and by that time she had already been claimed by a Master; Lyra

Gael was another person who refused to believe that the fleet had been completely destroyed.

"You must come with me to the hangar, immediately." Again she hold him by the arm but now it was Anakin who jerked her back.

"I'm not going to move until you say what's happening."

The young Padawan snorted

"It will be late—" she rolled her eyes and put a hand inside her tunic "But we can lose a moment." When she pulled out her hand, Anakin saw a black string with a pendant hung from the end.

"Where did you get it from?" He remembered seeing that necklace in it respective owner days ago; he had joked with it himself while trying to keep Lyra to himself as long as he could while Master Chubor urged her to hurry.

"Master Fisto found it floating in space, near the wreckage of the ship." Gael smiled. "He believes that if had it been inside, it would have been destroyed during the explosion, but here it is; one piece. "The girl's eyes were bright; she had already lost a Master before and the idea of losing another did not like her very much.

"That means that—she may be alive." Gael nodded.

None wanted to think of another option. There were many possible explanations for why the necklace might have survived the explosion; maybe the crew could have escaped but frozen in space; but so far no one had reported bodies floating—

Anakin closed his fingers around the pendant that he had carved as a child and smiled.

« _The spark will survive_ »


	4. Ch 4: The Escape

_**Chapter 4: The escape**_

 **Hi! I am so sorry for the take too long to update! Now, I have a few days free, so I will be more active in the page**

 **Thank all of you!**

 **SW-SW-SW**

Adrenaline ran through his veins; he had felt a tight knot in his stomach from the moment his starfigther had risen.

Previous days, all Jedi had been circling around the radars of all the fleets of the Republic; the whole capital still held its breath after the disappearance of the Supreme Chancellor. All the clone squads were led by a Jedi master, who was in charge of checking every corner of the galaxy, but lately, the Separatists seemed to be very quiet.

But it had been two nights ago when the radars had begun to show signs of enemy activities. A few parsec above Coruscant a Separatist fleet showed up and from that moment, before that small weak signal, all available ships emerged from the hangars.

Anakin and Obi-Wan were the two Jedi knights who led the mission. There, in the vastness of the galaxy, his Antifighter flak flashed on all sides. Even louder than the clatter of shrapnel and the snarl of his sublight drives, his cockpit hummed and rang with near hits from the turbolaser fire of the capital ships crowding space around him. Sometimes his whirling spinning dive through the cloud of battle skimmed bursts so closely that the energyscatter would slam his starfighter hard enough to bounce his head off the supports of his pilot's chair.

The confrontation between both sides was a display of cannons, lasers and debris that ended up floating in space. Many kilometers below, the figures that formed the capital were visible; I saw the small lights that moved with discontent, making everything look like a tiny infinite.

Anakin spun his starfighter, dodging the rubble of a Republic ship.

"Stay on them, R2" announced Anakin to his mechanical star; R2 beeped, rotating his head. "Master, General Grievous's ship is right in front; is the one surrounded by vulture droids" He locked a snarl behind his teeth, twisting his starfighter around another explosion that could have peeled its armor like an overripe Ithorian starfruit.

His cockpit speakers crackled. "I see it, it will not be easy, "said Obi-Wan, with his cazafigther at his side. I could still be surprised by the new depth of that voice. The calm confidence.

A large group of vulture droids set off, away from the sides of Grievous's ship; Anakin was betting whatever they were going for them. Following an order from Obi-Wan, Commander Oddball's team was placed in attack position, with the ailerons deployed.

Anakin chuckled.

"This is where the fun begins"

"What happens between us," ordered Obi-Wan.

The entire squadron deployed in an almost perfect formation, allowing the droids to pass between them, with green bursts that sought to strike them direct blows; the battle was like a dance, they all danced to the beat of a shrill song. The steps were complicated, and the one who did not know how to follow them, exploded. Anakin saw one of his ships explode very close to him, while another clone asked for help to get rid of the rest of the droids. "Voy a ayudarlos" murmuró Anakin, ya haciendo las maniobras para girar, pero la voz de Obi-Wan lo detuvo, mucho antes de que pudiese dirigir su nave hacia a izquierda.

"Don't! Let them do their work and we'll do ours "Anakin rolled his eyes, while the clone's ship that had requested help exploded; there were many Jedi who took it for granted that the clones were dispensable. But they were not for him.

"Missiles!" Anakin exclaimed, watching the vulture droids, firing. He wasn't worried for himself: the two on his tail were coming at him in perfect tandem. Missiles lack the sophisticated brains of droid fighters; to keep them from colliding on their inbound vectors, one of them would lock onto his fighter's left drive, the other onto his right. He maneuvered to perfection, dodging the blue bursts that flew across the sky.

"They missed!" Obi-Wan declared, looking out the window to his left.

"They're turning around," Anakin said, taking for granted that the missiles had not been fired to fail. "Use all the engines, R2" the mechanical star beeped and suddenly the ship began to move faster, "Impulter counter-march, ready"

On his radar he saw the red dots that symbolized the missiles; They were very close to him, but Anakin was sure he would lose them in the blink of an eye. With the impellers counter-clockwise, the ship began to turn, forming invisible loops; Anakin had a huge smile on his face, he saw glimpsed the bright bursts that followed his ship, as if they were following the heat waves that emanated the engines. Through the other sensors, he was able to see how the projectiles were very close to his tail, but it was only a matter of time until ...

Both missiles had had very little space between them, so the brush made them explode long before they could reach Anakin's sonrió victorioso. "Los destruimos, R2!" el astro mecanico emitió un nuevo pitido, que, de haber sido humano, hubiera sido una expresión de jubilo.

On the other hand, Obi-Wan was having problems with the missiles and likewise, a small squadron of Pistoeka droids stuck to their ship, like parasites and as soon as they were on the metal surface, they began to sabotage the ship, breaking the circuits and disabling even R4.

" "I'm hit." Obi-Wan sounded more irritated than concerned. "I'm hit."

"I see; Buzz droids. " Anakin swung his starfighter into closer pursuit. "I count five."

"Good heavens, they are turning off all the circuits"

"Move to the right, so I can have a clear shot!"

"No!" Announced Obi-Wan "The mission. You must go to the command ship. Rescue the Chancellor! "He said" I know how to evade them! "

But a mutual thought arose in both: Anakin would not abide by the order. "Not without you," Anakin said through his teeth. One of the buzz droids crouched beside the cockpit, silvery arms grappling with R4; another worked on the starfighter's nose, while a third skittered toward the ventral hydraulics. The last two of the aggressive little mechs had spidered to Obi-Wan's left wing, working on that damaged control surface.

Anakin moves into position just off Obi-Wan's left side and angles his ship so his guns are pointing at the droids crawling over Obi-Wan's Starfighter. Anakin fires and vaporizes the two buzz droids, along with the left wing of Obi-Wan's ship.

They're shutting down the controls."

"I can fix that …" Anakin brought his starfighter into line only a couple of meters off Obi-Wan's wing. "Steady …," he muttered, "steady …," and triggered a single burst of his right-side cannon that blasted the two buzz droids into gouts of molten metal. Along with most of Obi-Wan's left wing.

Anakin said, "Whoops."

The starfighter bucked hard enough to knock Obi-Wan's skull against the transparisteel canopy. A gust of stinging smoke filled the cockpit. Obi-Wan fought the yoke to keep his starfighter out of an uncontrolled tumble. "Anakin, that's not helping."

"You're right, bad idea. Here, let's try this—move left and swing under —easy …"

"Anakin, you're too close! Wait—" Obi-Wan stared in disbelief as "Wait, wait, I can't see a thing! My cockpit's fogging. They're all over me, Anakin.

"Move to the right."

"Hold on, Anakin. You're going to get us both killed!" but they both know that Anakin would never let him behind; but it was worth it to try at least, "Get out of here. There's nothing more you can do."

"I'm not leaving without you, Obi-Wan."

Anakin moves his ship next to Obi-Wan's and tries to physically knock the buzz droid off. Five are left. He manages to get one off, but badly dents Obi-Wan's ship in the process. One of the droids tears a piece off of the front of Obi-Wan's ship. Flames burst, more smoke billows out, obscuring the Jedi's view. Anakin knocks off three of the buzz droids and the fourth crawls out onto Anakin's ship and starts attacking Artoo.

"Blast it... I can't see... my controls are gone."

"Get 'em, Artoo. Watch out!"

"Artoo, hit the buzz droid's center eye."

Artoo extends an arm and aims a stream of electricity at the swerving buzz droid. The buzz droid hit squarely in the eye and falls off the ship.

"Yeah, you got him!" Anakin exclaims.

"Great, Artoo."

"Stay on my wing, the General's Command Ship is dead ahead." The former padawan said, feeling the rush in his veins; was an excited experience. "Easy, pull up... Head for the hangar."

"Have you noticed the shields are still up?"

"Oh! Sorry, Master." Anakin streaks ahead of Obi-Wan's disintegrating Jedi Fighter and blasts the shield generator.

"Oh, I have a bad feeling about this." Obi-Wan shakes his head.

The shield door drops away, and both crashes on the deck of the hangar bay, engulfed in a fantail of sparks. A set of blast doors starts slamming shut across the hangar opening, as material is sucked into space. Anakin, as only he can, maneuvers around the oncoming junk and flies into the hangar just as the blast doors slam shut. Obi-Wan ignites his light saber and cuts his way out of the cockpit. He jumps dear just as his ship explodes.

Battle droids rush at him from all directions. Anakin jumps out of his ship and cuts his way through the droids to where Obi-Wan is fighting. And now, both Jedi, are in.

 **SW-SW-SW**

She blinked with difficulty, regaining consciousness after a new faint. Her wrists burned and her arms seemed about to leave their places.

Lyra gently shook her head to the side, feeling that her neck was hard due to lack of movement.

"It's good that you woke up" she heard Dooku's velvety voice near her, as she heard his footsteps rumbling inside her head "I did not want you to miss what's going on outside" her eyes were dry and it stung, but at raising her head she saw a huge window open in front of her.

"What—what's wrong?" she asked with a trickle of voice.

"Your friends have come; and I did not want you to miss it "

Lyra felt a cold chill trapping each of her limbs as soon as she could distinguish the ships of the Republic exploding in front of the huge window.

"Nice show, right?"

She looked away, swallowing hard.

"I still do not understand what do you want to make me understand" she murmured, realizing that the bright light made her eyes hurt even more. "Your lies mean nothing to me"

"Silly girl!" Dooku exclaimed, looking away from the window, "it's only a matter of time until you realize that you are filling your head with lies; and only after that you will realize that my words were true. "

Dooku called General Grievous, who blew out the force field, and dragged Lyra out. She did not feel her legs, but with the clumsy movement her blood began to pump in her legs. Grievous made sounds that her ears would never forget; she had heard that cyborg breathing complication for almost two months, and during those two months she had been subjected to a torturous interrogation to reveal information about the plans of the Republic, but even so, Lyra had remained silent and, strangely, with lifetime.

"Oxygen waste," grumbled Grievous, throwing her into another room, a wider one that smelled different than the one she had been confined to for the last time. The General threw her to the ground and after giving strict orders to the droids to watch them, he left. Before he could leave the room, Lyra caught a glimpse of her saber hanging from the cyborg's belt.

She collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

"Oh, my child, what a relief to see you alive" she shook her head back, her eyes looking back; Sitting on a kind of throne, and with handcuffs on his wrist, was Chancellor Palpatine.

She crawled, using her hands to rejoin. "Sir, what a relief it is to see you alive!" Palpatine was in much better condition than her, even his clothes seemed clean, "Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt? "Palpatine moved his fingers slightly, in a negative signal.

"Their treatment has been as humanly as possible," he murmured. "But I can not say the same about you, are you okay?"

Lyra approached the throne, with a slight limp; she felt a tingling in her knees and the blood was slow to circulate, but she knew she would soon be able to walk normally.

"My condition does not matter; what is really good is that they did not do anything to you, sir. "She sat next to him, her legs extended.

"We both know they needed me alive" Lyra could not deny that it was true.

"And we both agree that you are more valuable than a Jedi; you are the representative of the Republic. "

"All lives are important, my child. Do not underestimate yourself. "She tried to smile at him, but all the muscles in her face ached.

Through the door, a combat droid entered, accompanied by a protocol droid, which carried a medium tray with several plates and a glass.

"Ah, I see that his manners are not forgotten, even in times of war" the protocol droid left the tray on a nearby table.

Lyra sensed the delicious smell of food, something so delicious that she had not had the chance to smell for months.

"Are you hungry?" Lyra denied slowly, looking away from the plates.

"It's your food, sir."

But Palpatine again moved his fingers, "I can not use my hands, as you will see. What would be the point? Come on, eat you. You need it more than me. "

Her stomach roared like a wild beast; her most primitive instinct howled to be satiated. But despite the demands of her body, she slowly approached the smaller plate and began to eat; the fruit had never tasted as good as at that moment.

"If my Master saw me, so desperate, he would say that I am a shame" she laughed under her breath, while the sweet juice fell from the corners of her lips. Palpatine smiled sideways with a strange look in his eyes.

"If they saw everything you did, they should give you the highest rank in the Council." Lyra laughed again, giving small bites so that the fruit ration reached.

Lyra leaned back against the base of Palpatine's throne and closed her eyes slightly, still chewing and feeling the sweetness coming down her throat. Behind the throne was another window, which Lyra chose to ignore; she already had enough with the screams that flooded her head. She felt everything that was happening outside that ship.

"They're here," she murmured, taking a black seed from her mouth and leaving it on one of the edges of the plate. Palpatine let out a soft "hum?"

"The Jedi are here" Lyra smiled, sideways. "They have taken a while, but they have arrived."

"Then, it was them" Palpatine rested his head against the backrest.

Lyra closed her eyes, leaving the empty plate on the floor. Now she not only felt the conflict from outside, but the presence of two Jedi inside the ship. It was only a matter of time until they found them.

"What an urge to go home"

Lyra did not answer. She could not answer. She was looking at an image inside her head. Not an image. A reality. A memory of something that had not happened yet. She saw Count Dooku on his knees. She saw lightsabers crossed at the Count's throat ...

The door to the room opened and Dooku himself entered. She saw him enter and move with all the ceremony that represented him; his cloak rippled as always behind him as he approached the window. Lyra followed him with her gaze.

The vast semisphere of the view wall bloomed with battle. Sophisticated sensor algorithms compressed the combat that sprawled throughout the galactic capital's orbit to a view the naked eye could enjoy: cruisers hundreds of kilometers apart, exchanging fire at near lightspeed, appeared to be practically hull-to-hull, joined by pulsing cables of flame. Turbolaser blasts became swift shafts of light that shattered into prismatic splinters against shields, or bloomed into miniature supernovae that swallowed ships whole. The invisible gnatclouds of starfighter dogfights became a gleaming dance of shadowmoths at the end of Coruscant's brief spring.

Within that immense curve of computer-filtered carnage, the only furnishing was one lone chair, centered in an expanse of empty floor. This was called the General's Chair, just as this apartment atop the flagship's conning spire was called the General's Quarters.

Dooku return on his steps, given the back to the window. He sat with his back to that chair and to the man shackled within it, hands folded behind him beneath his cloak of silken armorweave, stood Count Dooku.

Lyra contemplated him in silence; she realized at that precise moment that she had benefits that no other prisoner could have. She had no idea because she was not tied up, in a new session with the droids or with Grievous.

"They are coming" Dooku mumble, eyes on the main door of the room; a slight smile apeer on his face.

"Just in time" Palpatine said, in a soft whisper

Young Buleeana swallow saliva very difficult; her throat was dry and her scar began to throb, usually that happen when anxiety takes control of her mind; she knew that was wrong, but she could not avoid it. For the last few days, she has been very anxious to ge out of that place for once and for all.

"It's not too late yet" Lyra murmured, stroking her aching wrist "to repent, I mean"

But Dooku smiled weakly.

"You are an inveterate optimist, girl," he announced in a calm voice, "although I doubt they show sympathy for me and I hesitate to show gratitude for confining me to a dungeon."

Once a great Jedi Master, Dooku is a dark colossus bestriding the galaxy. Nemesis of the corrupt Republic, oriflamme of the principled Confederacy of Independent Systems, he is the very personification of shock and awe. Once he was one of the most respected and powerful Jedi in the Order's twenty-five-thousand-year history, yet Dooku's principles would no longer allow him to serve a Republic in which political power was for sale to the highest bidder. And she knows it.

"Hope is the last thing you may lose in battle" she insisted "Call me optimistic, I wont be offended. And yet, I may insist: it's not too late"

"Hush, child, hush!" Palpatine intervined, moving his fingers "He must pay for what he has done to the entire Galaxy, don't forget about the poor people of Mahranee..."

"I think I would never forget that in my life, sir" she spat, looking at the Chancellor, over her shoulder "I bet neither he would"

She looked at Lord Tyranus again, while she stand on her feet. She walked toward him; she felt so brave at that moment.

"Not everything it's dark" she whisper, kneeling by his side "I do not talk like a Jedi this time; now I talk like mother used to it, or at less, how I remember her: light and darkness it's relative in our lifes. Sometimes we are grey, and is not bad. If you say sorry for the things you have done, you wont be weak, contrary, you'll be braver"

"You said it: the things I have done, no coward would make it" his gaze to focus on her "Now you are trying to persude me?" Lord Tyranus giggled "Save your breath, child. You won't change my principles, not even your effors to convencing me to save my life if I say that I am sorry"

Remembering the visions inside her head, she thought that the end of the war and the end of Dooku was too close. She crawled back to Palpatine's chair, feeling quite stupid.

"Don't feel bad, child. One day, you will understand my reasons: everything in this life has a purpose"

"Stop asking me that; I don't and I won't ever understand your reasons, because you are so misterius as my mother, as you said, was." She sigh very deeply, avoiding his gaze "I thought I could save you, don't ask why!" she abruptaly say, eyes wide open "I don't even know why—

"Perhaps, because I am the only one who has the guts to tell you what you've been craving for too long?" Dooku rose from his seat, walking around the room. Again, he stopped in front of the window, looking the confrontation outside "I won't lie to you: I wanted to save you too. After the battle of Geonosis, I can firmerly say that you have potential, child"

Lord Tyranus looked her, as Palpatine fix his eyes on him; the tension was touchable in that place.

"Why?"

"I bet did you met my former padawan, Asajj Ventress" Dooku had his hands on his back, while his eyes now were following a group of Separatist's droids. "It's been a while since the last time I've heard from her, I guess she is dead or something like that. And I have to admit that she was exceptional, but her aspirations taken her too far. She tried to be better than me, her own master, she tryed to challenge me. I have no other choice that ending her up, but she managed to runaway" he shake his head, "What a waste. But now, it's time to let the past behind"

She stood on her feet one more time, ignoring the harsh words of the Chancellor, who was comanding her to sit again.

"Are you saying that you want me by your side?" they were shoulder to shoulder, both looking at the huge galaxy before them, watching the mute battle between both sides of the game.

"You can call it like that" Dooku sighed "The path would be rough, but I will be complete honest with you. I knew your parents, and I can assure you that I won't make the same mistakes that the Jedi did with them"

Her gaze fall to the floor, to the tip of her boots. Was a tempting offer, but she wasn't sure. Long was the time she spent in that ship, with constantly accuses from Grievous and the torture droids. Her mind shouted that she has to refuse, but in the other hand...there was too many things that she did not know about everything around her.

"I—

But before she could even speak, the main door opened and four combat droids entered, anouncing that the Jedi were close. Dooku move away from the window and took Lyra by the arm, drooping her to the floor.

"Better for you to not intervene" his voice become harsh as he abandone the room, with the strict order to chain her beside the Chancellor.


	5. Ch 5: Treachery is the way of the Sith

Chapter:

"Treachery is the way of the Sith"

 **N/A: Woow! It's been a really long, long time! I am apologies for that!**

 **I hope you can enjoy this chapter as much as I do every time I write this story!**

 **P.S: sorry for any grammar mistake!**

The turbolift's door whished open. Anakin pressed himself against the wall, a litter of saber-sliced droid parts around his feet. Beyond appeared to be a perfectly ordinary lift lobby: pale and bare and empty.

Made it. At last.

Anakin's whole body hummed to the tune of his blue-hot blade.

"Anakin."

Obi-Wan stood against the opposite wall. He looked calm in a way Anakin could barely understand. He gave a significant stare down at the lightsaber in Anakin's hand. "Anakin, rescue," he said softly. "Not mayhem."

Anakin kept his weapon right where it was. "And Dooku?"

"Once the Chancellor is safe," Obi-Wan said with a ghost of a smile, "we can blow up the ship."

Anakin's mechanical fingers tightened until the grip of his lightsaber creaked. "I'd rather do it by hand."

Obi-Wan slipped cautiously through the turbolift's door. Nothing shot at him. He beckoned. "I know this is difficult, Anakin. I know it's personal for you on many levels. You must take extra care to be mindful of your training here—and not only your combat training."

Heat rose in Anakin's cheeks. "I am not—" your Padawan anymore snarled inside his head, but that was adrenaline talking; he bit back the words and said instead, "—going to let you down, Master. Or Chancellor Palpatine."

"I have no doubt of that. Just remember that Dooku is no mere Dark Jedi like that Ventress woman; he is a Lord of the Sith. The jaws of this trap are about to snap shut, and there may be danger here beyond the merely physical."

"Yes." Anakin let his blade shrink away and moved past Obi-Wan into the turbolift lobby. Distant concussions boomed throughout the ship, and the floor rocked like a raft on a river in flood; he barely noticed. "I just—there has been so much—what he's done—not just to the Jedi, but to the galaxy—"

"Anakin …," Obi-Wan began warningly.

"Don't worry. I'm not angry, and I'm not looking for revenge. I'm just—" He lifted his lightsaber. "I'm just looking forward to ending it."

"Anticipation—"

"Is distraction. I know. And I know that hope is as hollow as fear."

Anakin let himself smile, just a bit. "And I know everything else you're dying to tell me right now." Obi-Wan's slightly rueful bow of acknowledgment was as affectionate as a hug. "I suppose at some point I will eventually have to stop trying to train you."

Anakin's smile broadened toward a soft chuckle. "I think that's the first time you've ever admitted it."

They stopped at the door to the General's Quarters: a huge oval of opalescent iridiite chased with gold. Anakin stared at his ghostly almost-reflection while he reached into the room beyond with the Force, and let the Force reach into him. "I'm ready, Master."

"I know you are."

They stood a moment, side by side. Anakin didn't look at him; he stared into the door, through the door, searching in its shimmering depths for a hint of an unguessable future. He couldn't imagine not being at war.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin's arm. "There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man."

Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan's eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself.

"I … wouldn't have it any other way, Master."

"I believe," his onetime Master said with a gently humorous look of astonishment at the words coming out of his mouth, "that you should get used to calling me Obi-Wan."

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, "let's go get the Chancellor."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "Let's."

Inside a turbolift pod, Dooku watched hologrammic images of Kenobi and Skywalker cautiously pick their way down the curving stairs from the entrance balcony to the main level of the General's Quarters, moving slowly to stay braced against the pitching of the cruiser. The ship shuddered and bucked with multiple torpedo bursts, and the lights went out again; lighting was always the first to fail as power was diverted from life support to damage control.

"My lord." On the intraship comm, Grievous sounded actively concerned. "Damage to this ship is becoming severe. Thirty percent of automated weapons systems are down, and we may soon lose hyperspace capability."

Dooku nodded judiciously to himself, frowning down at the translucent blue ghosts slinking toward Palpatine. "Sound the retreat for the entire strike force, General, and prepare the ship for jump. Once the Jedi are dead, I will join you on the bridge."

"As my lord commands. Grievous out."

"Indeed you are, you vile creature," Dooku muttered to the dead comlink. "Out of luck, and out of time."

He cast the comlink aside and ignored its clatter across the deck. He had no further use for it. Let it be destroyed along with Grievous, those repulsive bodyguards of his, and the rest of the cruiser, once he was safely captured and away.

He nodded to the two hulking super battle droids that flanked him.

One opened the lift door and they marched through, pivoting to take positions on either side. Dooku straightened his cloak of shimmering armorweave and strode grandly into the half-dark lift lobby. In the pale emergency lighting, the door to the General's Quarters still smoldered where those two idiotic peasants had lightsabered it; to pick his way through the hole would risk getting his trousers scorched. Dooku sighed and gestured, and the opalescent wreckage of the door silently slid itself out of his way.

Anakin slid along the chairs on one side of the immense table that dominated the center of the General's Quarters' main room; Obi-Wan mirrored him on the opposite side. Silent lightning flashed and flared: the room's sole illumination came from the huge curving view wall at its far end, a storm of turbolaser blasts and flak bursts and the miniature supernovae that were the deaths of entire ships.

A stark shadow against that backdrop of carnage: the silhouette of one tall chair. next to it, was a gigant shining bubble levitanting a few inches above the floor; Anakin saw little purple thunders floating inside the bubble, moving like thins worms.

Anakin caught Obi-Wan's eye across the table and nodded toward the dark shape ahead. Obi-Wan replied with the Jedi hand signal for approach with caution, and added the signal for be ready for action. Anakin's mouth compressed. Like he needed to be told. After all the trouble they'd had with the turbolifts, anything could be up here by now. Maybe the place could be full of droidekas, for all they knew. And that bubble... was so dubious.

Then, the lights came back on.

Anakin froze.

The dark figure in the chair—it was Chancellor Palpatine, it was, and there were no droids to be seen, and his heart should have leapt within his chest, but— inside the bubble, was his beloved Lyra, floating, not capable to move inside that Force field. She looked bad. His heart start beating so fast.

In another hand, the Chancellor looked beyond old, looked ancient like Yoda was ancient: possessed of incomprehensible age. And exhausted, and in pain. And worse— Anakin saw in the Chancellor's face something he'd never dreamed he'd find there, and it squeezed breath from his lungs and wiped words from his brain. Palpatine looked frightened.

Anakin didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine what to say. All he could imagine was what Grievous and Dooku must have done to both of them since the moment that they got caught. And it's been a long time since the extermination of the good people of Mharanee.

"Chancellor," Obi-Wan said, a calmly respectful greeting as though they had met by chance on the Grand Concourse of the Galactic Senate. Palpatine's only response was a tight murmur.

Anakin walked toward the gigant bubble, pressing his hand in the shining thin wall. Lyra looked at him with happiness in her eyes, touching his hand through the bubble. But the field sended electric waves in their hands, making both of them to step back.

With a slight smile he nod at her, promising her and himself that he would get back to her very soon. She nod back at him. But, her face express a clear sign of panic.

"Anakin, behind you —!" Palpatine exclaim.

But Anakin didn't turn. He didn't have to. It wasn't just the clack of boot heels and clank of magnapeds crossing the threshold of the entrance balcony; the Force gathered within him and around him in a sudden clench like the fists of a startled man.

In the Force, he could feel the focus of Palpatine's eyes: the source of the fear that rolled off him in billows like vapor down a block of frozen air. And he could feel the even colder wave of power, colder than the frost on a mynock's mouth, that slid into the room behind him like an ice dagger into his back.

Something unlocked in his chest. The thunder in his ears dissolved into red smoke that coiled at the base of his spine. His lightsaber found his hand, and his lips peeled off his teeth in a smile that a krayt dragon would have recognized.

That trouble he was having with talking went away.

"This," he murmured to Palpatine, and to himself, "is not a problem."

The voice that spoke from the entrance balcony was an elegant basso with undernotes of oily resonance like a kriin-oak cavernhorn. Count Dooku's voice.

"General Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker. Gentlemen—a term I use in its loosest possible sense—you are my prisoners."

Now Anakin didn't have any troubles at all.

The entrance balcony provided an appropriate angle—far above the Jedi, looking down upon them—for Dooku to make final assessments before beginning the farce.

Skywalker gave Dooku only his back, but his blade was already out and his tall, lean frame stood frozen with anticipation: so motionless he almost seemed to shiver.

Kenobi, now—he was something else entirely: a classic of his obsolete kind. He simply stood gazing calmly up at Dooku and the super battle droids that flanked him, hands open, utterly relaxed, on his face only an expression of mild interest.

Dooku derived a certain melancholy satisfaction—a pleasurably lonely contemplation of his own unrecognized greatness—from a brief reflection that Skywalker would never understand how much thought and planning, how much work, Lord Sidious had invested in so hastily orchestrating his sham victory. Nor would he ever understand the artistry, the true mastery, that Dooku would wield in his own defeat.

But thus was life. Sacrifices must be made, for the greater good.

There was a war on, after all.

He called upon the Force, gathering it to himself and wrapping himself within it. He breathed it in and held it whirling inside his heart, clenching down upon it until he could feel the spin of the galaxy around him.

Until he became the axis of the Universe.

This was the real power of the dark side, the power he had suspected even as a boy, had sought through his long life until Darth Sidious had shown him that it had been his all along. The dark side didn't bring him to the center of the universe. It made him the center.

He drew power into his innermost being until the Force itself existed only to serve his will.

Now the scene below subtly altered, though to the physical eye there was no change. Powered by the dark side, Dooku's perception took the measure of those below him with exhilarating precision. Kenobi was luminous, a transparent being, a window onto a sunlit meadow of the Force. Skywalker was a storm cloud, flickering with dangerous lightning, building the rotation that threatens a tornado.

"Get help!" The edge of panic in Palpatine's hoarse half whisper sounded real even to Dooku. "You must get help. Neither of you is any match for a Sith Lord!"

Now Skywalker turned, meeting Dooku's direct gaze for the first time since the abandoned hangar on Geonosis. His reply was clearly intended as much for Dooku as for Palpatine. "Tell that to the one Obi-Wan left in pieces on Naboo."

"Anakin—" In the Force, Dooku could feel Kenobi's disapproval of Skywalker's boasting; and he could also feel Kenobi's effortless selfrestraint in focusing on the matter at hand. "This time, we do it together."

Dooku's sharp eye picked up the tightening of Skywalker's droid hand on his lightsaber's grip. "I was about to say exactly that."

Dooku leaned forward, and his cloak of armorweave spread like wings; he lifted gently into the air and descended to the main level in a slow, dignified Force-glide. Touching down at the head of the situation table, he regarded the two Jedi from under a lifted brow.

"Your weapons, please, gentlemen. Let's not make a mess of this in front of the Chancellor and the lady."

Obi-Wan lifted his lightsaber into the balanced two-handed guard of Ataro. His blade crackled into existence, and the air smelled of lightning. "You won't escape us this time, Dooku."

"Escape you? Please." Dooku allowed his customary mild smile to spread. "Do you think I orchestrated this entire operation with the intent to escape? I could have taken the Chancellor outsystem weeks ago. But I have better things to do with my life than to babysit him while I wait for the pair of you to attempt a rescue."

Skywalker brought his lightsaber to a Shien ready: hand of blackgloved durasteel cocked high at his shoulder, blade angling upward and away. "This is a little more than an attempt."

"And a little less than a rescue."

With a flourish, Dooku cast his cloak back from his right shoulder, clearing his sword arm. "Now please, gentlemen. Must I order the droids to open fire? That becomes so untidy, what with blaster bolts bouncing about at random. Little danger to the three of us, of course, but I should certainly hate for any harm to come to the Chancellor."

Kenobi moved toward him with a slow, hypnotic grace, as though he floated on an invisible repulsor plate. "Why do I find that difficult to believe?"

Skywalker mirrored him, swinging wide toward Dooku's flank. "You weren't so particular about bloodshed on Geonosis."

"Ah." Dooku's smile spread even farther. "And how is Senator Amidala?"

"Don't—" The thunderstorm that was Skywalker in the Force boiled with sudden power. "Don't even speak her name."

Dooku waved this aside. The lad's personal issues were too tiresome to pursue; he knew far too much already about Skywalker's messy private life. "I bear Chancellor Palpatine no ill will, foolish boy. He is neither soldier nor spy, whereas you and your friend here are both. It is only an unfortunate accident of history that he has chosen to defend a corrupt Republic against my endeavor to reform it."

"You mean destroy it."

"The Chancellor is a civilian. You, General Kenobi, and Buleeana, on the other hand, are legitimate military targets. It is up to you whether you will accompany me as captives—" A twitch of the Force brought his lightsaber to his hand with invisible speed, its brilliant scarlet blade angled downward at his side. "—or as corpses."

"Now, there's a coincidence," Kenobi replied dryly as he swung around Dooku to place the Count precisely between Skywalker and himself. "You face the identical choice."

Dooku regarded each of them in turn with impregnable calm. He lifted his blade in a salute and swept it again to a low guard. "Just because there are two of you, do not presume you have the advantage."

"Oh, we know," Skywalker said. "Because there are two of you." Dooku barely managed to restrain a jolt of surprise.

"Or maybe I should say, were two of you," the young Jedi went on.

"We're on to your partner Sidious; we tracked him all over the galaxy. He's probably in Jedi custody right now."

"Is he?" Dooku relaxed. "How fortunate for you."

Quite simple, in the end, he thought. Isolate Skywalker, slaughter Kenobi. Beyond that, it would be merely a matter of spinning Buleeana up into enough of a frenzy to break through her Jedi restraint and reveal the infinite vista of Sith power.

Lord Sidious would take it from there.

"Surrender." Kenobi's voice deepened into finality. "You will be given no further chance."

Dooku lifted an eyebrow. "Unless one of you happens to be carrying Yoda in his pocket, I hardly think I shall need one."

The Force crackled between them, and the ship pitched and bucked under a new turbolaser barrage, and Dooku decided that the time had come. He flicked a false glance over his shoulder—a hint of distraction to draw the attack— and all three of them moved at once.

The ship shuddered and the red smoke surged from Anakin's spine into his arms and legs and head and when Dooku gave the slightest glance of concern over his shoulder, distracted for half an instant, Anakin just couldn't wait anymore.

He sprang, lightsaber angled for the kill.

Obi-Wan leapt from Dooku's far side in perfect coordination—and they met in midair, for the Sith Lord was no longer between them. Anakin looked up just in time to glimpse the bottom of Dooku's rancor-leather boot as it came down on his face and smacked him tumbling toward the floor; he reached into the Force to effortlessly right himself and touched down in perfect balance to spring again toward the lightning flares, scarlet against sky blue, that sprayed from clashing lightsabers as Dooku pressed Obi-Wan away with a succession of weaving, flourishing thrusts that drove the Jedi's blade out of line while they reached for his heart.

Anakin launched himself at Dooku's back—and the Count half turned, gesturing casually while holding Obi-Wan at bay with an elegant one-handed bind. Chairs leapt up from the situation table and whirled toward Anakin's head. He slashed the first one in half contemptuously, but the second caught him across the knees and the third battered his shoulder and knocked him down.

He snarled to himself and reached through the Force to pick up some chairs of his own—and the situation table itself slammed into him and drove him back to crush him against the wall. His lightsaber came loose from his slackening fingers and clattered across the tabletop to drop to the floor on the far side. And Dooku barely even seemed to be paying attention to him.

While effortlessly deflecting a rain of blue-streaking cuts from Kenobi, Dooku felt the Force shove the situation table away from the wall and send it hurtling toward his back with astonishing speed; he barely managed to lift himself enough that he could backroll over it instead of having it shatter his spine.

"My my," he said, chuckling. "The boy has some power after all."

His backroll brought him to his feet directly in front of the boy, who was charging, headlong and unarmed, after the table he had tossed, and was already thoroughly red in the face.

"I'm twice the Jedi I was last time!" The grip of Skywalker's blade whistled through the air to meet his hand in perfect synchrony with a sweeping slash. "My powers have doubled since we last met—"

"How lovely for you." Dooku neatly sidestepped, cutting at the boy's leg, yet Skywalker's blade met the cut as he passed and he managed to sweep his blade behind his head to slap aside the casual thrust Dooku aimed at the back of his neck—but his clumsy charge had put him in Kenobi's path, so that the Jedi Master had to Force-roll over his partner's head.

Directly at Dooku's upraised blade. Kenobi drove a slash at the scarlet blade while he pivoted in the air, and again Dooku sidestepped so that now it was Kenobi in Skywalker's way.

Skywalker was the swift one, whooshing here and there like a spastic hawk-bat—attempting a Jedi variant of neek-in-the-middle so they could come at him from both sides—while Kenobi was deliberate as a lumberdroid, moving step by step, cutting off the angles, clumsy but relentlessly dogged as he tried to chivvy Dooku into a corner. Whereas all Dooku need do was to slip from one side to another— and occasionally flip over a head here and there—so that he could fight each of them in turn, rather than both of them at the same time.

However, only one death was in his plan, and this dumb-show was becoming tiresome. Not to mention tiring. The dark power that served him went only so far, and he was, after all, not a young man. He leaned into a thrust at Kenobi's gut that the Jedi Master deflected with a rising parry, bringing them chest-to-chest, blades flaring, locked together a handbreadth from each other's throats.

"Your moves are too slow, Kenobi. Too predictable. You'll have to do better."

Kenobi's response to this friendly word was to regard him with a twinkle of gentle amusement in his eye. "Very well, then," the Jedi said, and shot straight upward over Dooku's head so fast it seemed he'd vanished.

Obi-Wan managed to destroyed the droids that custodied the main door, while Dooku focus all his attention to Anakin. But, when he felt the Jedi master too close, he used the Force on Skywalker to send him backwards; Anakin fell on his sides, while his saber flew away from his hands. Now free, Dooku used the Force again to lift Obi-Wan up and throw him away throught the large main room. Kenobi, as soon his body crash to the ground, got unconscious, but for Dooku wasn't enough; and using the Force once again, Lord Tyranus broke in two the bridge and let it fall on Kenobi, making sure that he would not interfere in his plans.

Before turning his attention again to Anakin, Dooku felt something. He felt the great power of the Force flowing in that room; he could feel it as clear as water. His eyes landed on the great ball of the magnetic field; inside the bubble, the purple thunders were shining and the bolts of lightning were cracking the sphere. The bubble was about to break.

But once again, his attention was drag to Anakin when the young Jedi rose from the floor, with his saber in his hands, moving with cunning and expertise.

Both blades, hot and dangerous, collide one against the other, making purple sparks from each. Anakin was a great duelist, moving with anger, even if it was not right for a Jedi; but dooku could feel every emotion in the boy's body. He could sense that his relationship with his master was more than just Master and Padawan; they had a special bond, almost a family bond. And it was obvious that that bond was the engine of his anger.

The Dark Side's main engine were the emotions. While, the Jedi's way was focus on duty, leaving no place to feel absolutely anything. That's why was so easy to tempt a Jedi and corrupt their minds, and that was exactly what Darth Sidious wanted.

"I sense great fear on you, Skywalker" Dooku whispered as the blades were cross and their faces were too close. "You have hate... anger, but you don't use it." Anakin was young, but Dooku have experience in combat; was easy to defeat him once.

The sabers kept colliding attack after attack, and Dooku felt that his plan was working; he was pushing Skywalker to the limits, wanting to take out every inch of hate inside him, trying to guide him into the Dark Side.

But after Skywalker's attack, the lights inside the room start flickering. Both stopped moving when a shrill sound turn up as a huge explosion. The ground shake like an Earthquake and the lights almost shout down.

The bubble finally broke.

Taking that disturbance as advantage, Dooku rose his saber against Anakin's chest. But the space where Skywalker's chest had been was now only the blue lightning of Buleeana's blade driving straight for Dooku's heart. Only a desperate whirl to one side made what would have been a smoking hole in his chest into a line of scorch through his armorweave cloak.

He look at the girl's eyes with surprise. She has an almost dark glare, while she was holding Kenobi's saber in her hands. He had to admit that she was fast, not even ten seconds ago she was inside the magnetic field, and now she was right in front of him, challenging him. And all his thoughts were right about her.

Dooku threw himself spinning up and away from the two Jedi to land on the situation table, disengaging for a moment to recover his composure—that had been entirely too close—but by the time his boots touched down the two young Jedi were moving there to meet him, blades weaving through a defensive velocity so bewilderingly fast that Dooku dared not even try a strike; he threw a feint toward Skywalker's face, then dropped and spun in a reverse ankle-sweep— But not only did Skywalker easily overleap this attack, Dooku nearly lost his own foot to a slash from Buleeana who had again come out of nowhere and now carved through the table so that it collapsed under Dooku's weight and dumped the Sith Lord unceremoniously to the floor.

This was not in the plan.

Skywalker slammed his following strike down so hard that the shock of deflecting it buckled Dooku's elbows. Dooku threw himself into a backroll that brought him to his feet—and Lyra's blade was there to meet his neck. Only a desperate whirling slash-block, coupled with a wheel kick that caught her on the thigh, bought him enough time to leap away again, and when he touched down— Skywalker was already there.

The first overhand chop of Skywalker's blade slid off Dooku's instinctive guard. The second bent Dooku's wrist. The third flash of blue forced Dooku's scarlet blade so far to the inside that his own lightsaber scorched his shoulder, and Dooku was forced to give ground.

Dooku felt himself blanch.

Skywalker came on, mechanically inexorable, impossibly powerful, a destroyer droid with a lightsaber: each step a blow and each blow a step. Dooku backed away as fast as he dared; Skywalker stayed right on top of him. Dooku's breath went short and hard. He no longer tried to block Skywalker's strikes but only to guide them slanting away; he could not meet Skywalker strength-to-strength—not only did the boy wield tremendous reserves of Force energy, but his sheer physical power was astonishing—

It was time to alter his own tactics.

He dropped low and spun into another reverse anklesweep—the weakness of Djem So was its lack of mobility—that slapped Skywalker's boot sharply enough to throw the young Jedi off balance, giving Dooku the opportunity to leap away—

Only to find himself again facing the wheel of blue lightning that was Buleeana's blade. Dooku decided that the comedy had ended. Now it was time to kill. After all, she wasn't that important...wasn't she?

"You should listening me when you had the chance" he said, moving around her, breathing so loud.

He drove a series of flashing thrusts toward her legs to draw her into a flipping overhead leap so that Dooku could burn through her spine from kidneys to shoulder blades—and this image, this plan, was so clear in Dooku's mind that he almost failed to notice that Buleeana met every one of his thrusts without so much as moving her feet, staying perfectly centered, perfectly balanced, blade never moving a millimeter more than was necessary, deflecting without effort, and when Dooku felt Skywalker regain his feet and stride once more toward his back, he finally registered the source of that blinding defensive velocity she had used a moment ago. After all, she was the Padawan of his old friend, Mace Windu, right? Dooku found himself having a sudden, unexpected, overpowering, and entirely distressing bad feeling about this …

His farce had suddenly, inexplicably, spun from humorous to deadly serious and was tumbling rapidly toward terrifying. Realization burst through Dooku's consciousness like the blossoming fireballs of dying ships outside: this pair of Jedi fools had somehow managed to become entirely dangerous.

These clowns might—just possibly—actually be able to beat him. No sense taking chances; even his Master would agree with that. Lord Sidious could come up with a new plan more easily than a new apprentice.

He gathered the Force once more in a single indrawn breath that summoned power from throughout the universe; the slightest whipcrack of that power, negligent as a flick of his wrist, sent Buleeana flying backward to crash hard against the wall, but Dooku didn't have time to enjoy it. Skywalker was all over him.

The shining blue lightsaber whirled and spat and every overhand chop crashed against Dooku's defense with the unstoppable power of a meteor strike; the Sith Lord spent lavishly of his reserve of the Force merely to meet these attacks without being cut in half, and Skywalker—

Skywalker was getting stronger.

He decided he'd best revise his strategy once again. He no longer even tried to strike back. Force exhaustion began to close down his perceptions, drawing his consciousness back down to his physical form, trapping him within his own skull until he could barely even feel the contours of the room around him; he dimly sensed stairs at his back, stairs that led up to the entrance balcony. He retreated up them, using the higher ground for leverage, but Skywalker just kept on coming, tirelessly ferocious.

That blue blade was everywhere, flashing and whirling faster and faster until Dooku saw the room through an electric haze, and now Buleeana was back in the picture: with a shout of the Force, she shot like a torpedo up the stairs behind Skywalker, and Dooku decided that under these rather extreme circumstances, it was at least arguably permissible for a gentleman to cheat.

"Guards!" he said to the pair of super battle droids that still stood at attention to either side of the entrance. "Open fire!" Instantly the two droids sprang forward and lifted their hands.

Energy hammered out from the heavy blasters built into their arms; Skywalker whirled and his blade batted every blast back at the droids, whose mirror-polished carapace armor deflected the bolts again. Galvened particle beams screeched through the room in blinding ricochets.

Kenobi reached the top of the stairs and a single slash of his lightsaber dismantled both droids. Before their pieces could even hit the floor Dooku was in motion, landing a spinning side-stamp that folded Skywalker in half; he used his last burst of dark power to continue his spin into a blindingly fast wheel-kick that brought his heel against the point of Kenobi's chin with a crack like the report of a huge-bore slugthrower, knocking the Jedi Master back down the stairs. Sounded like he'd broken his neck.

Wouldn't that be lovely?

There was no sense in taking chances, however. The shining blue lightsaber whirled and spat and every overhand chop crashed against Dooku's defense with the unstoppable power of a meteor strike; the Sith Lord spent lavishly of his reserve of the Force merely to meet these attacks without being cut in half, and Skywalker —

Skywalker was getting stronger.

Each parry cost Dooku more power than he'd used to throw Kenobi across the room; each block aged him a decade. He decided he'd best revise his strategy once again.

He no longer even tried to strike back. Force exhaustion began to close down his perceptions, drawing his consciousness back down to his physical form, trapping him within his own skull until he could barely even feel the contours of the room around him; he dimly sensed stairs at his back, stairs that led up to the entrance balcony. He retreated up them, using the higher ground for leverage, but Skywalker just kept on coming, tirelessly ferocious.

That blue blade was everywhere, flashing and whirling faster and faster until Dooku saw the room through an electric haze, and now Kenobi was back in the picture: with a shout of the Force, he shot like a torpedo up the stairs behind Skywalker, and Dooku decided that under these rather extreme circumstances, it was at least arguably permissible for a gentleman to cheat.

"Guards!" he said to the other pair of super battle droids that still stood in the other side of the entrance. "Open fire!"

Instantly the two droids sprang forward and lifted their hands. Energy hammered out from the heavy blasters built into their arms; Skywalker whirled and his blade batted every blast back at the droids, whose mirror-polished carapace armor deflected the bolts again.

Buleeana reached the top of the stairs and a single slash of her lightsaber dismantled both droids. Before their pieces could even hit the floor Dooku was in motion, landing a spinning side-stamp that folded Skywalker in half; he used his last burst of dark power to continue his spin into a blindingly fast wheel-kick that brought his heel against the point of her legs with a crack like the report of a huge-bore slugthrower, knocking the Jedi Master back down the stairs.

Now he could see the truth: Skywalker was a natural.

There was a thermonuclear furnace where his heart should be, and it was burning through the firewalls of his Jedi training. He held the Force in the clench of a white-hot fist. He was half Sith already, and he didn't even know it.

This boy had the gift of fury.

And even now, he was holding himself back; even now, as he landed at Dooku's flank and rained blows upon the Sith Lord's defenses, even as he drove Dooku backward step after step, Dooku could feel how Skywalker kept his fury banked behind walls of will: walls that were hardened by some uncontrollable dread.

Dread, Dooku surmised, of himself. Of what might happen if he should ever allow that furnace he used for a heart to go supercritical. Dooku slipped aside from an overhand chop and sprang backward.

"I sense great fear in you. You are consumed by it. Hero With No Fear, indeed. You're a fraud, Skywalker. You are nothing but a posturing child."

He pointed his lightsaber at the young Jedi like an accusing finger.

"Aren't you a little old to be afraid of the dark?"

Skywalker leapt for him again, and this time Dooku met the boy's charge easily. They stood nearly toe-to-toe, blades flashing faster than the eye could see, but Skywalker had lost his edge: a simple taunt was all that had been required to shift the focus of his attention from winning the fight to controlling his own emotions. The angrier he got, the more afraid he became, and the fear fed his anger in turn.

Dooku allowed himself to relax; he felt that spirit of playfulness coming over him again as he and Skywalker spun 'round each other in their lethal dance. Whatever fun was to be had, he should enjoy while he could.

"Don't fear what you're feeling, Anakin, use it!" Palpatine barked. "Call upon your fury. Focus it, and he cannot stand against you. Rage is your weapon. Strike now! Strike! Kill him!"

"No, Anakin, do not kill him! We need him alive!" Buleeana's voice intervened while she was crawled back to the stairs, holding her leg and trying to reach Kenobi's saber.

He and Skywalker paused for one single, final instant, blades locked together, staring at each other past a sizzling cross of scarlet against blue, and in that instant Dooku found himself wondering in bewildered astonishment if Sidious had suddenly lost his mind. Didn't he understand the advice he'd just given?

Whose side was he on, anyway?

And through the cross of their blades he saw in Skywalker's eyes the promise of hell, and he felt a sickening presentiment that he already knew the answer to that question.

Treachery is the way of the Sith


End file.
